


Vessel

by The10ofSwords



Category: 9 (2009), Soul Eater
Genre: B.R.A.I.N., Cat Beast, Crona is gonna be the cat beast, People Will Die, Seekers, The Seamstress - Freeform, Winged Beast, asura is B.R.A.I.N, based off the movie 9 (2009), more tags to come, ragnarok is the winged beast, spiderbots, title is tentative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-01 21:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The10ofSwords/pseuds/The10ofSwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small Stitchpunk wakes in an empty workshop. The Soul Eater must find its identity, its creator, and perhaps most importantly- its purpose.</p><p>Based off the 2009 movie '9'. Please keep in mind, characters will die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to post images on tumblr about what I envision this story to be. It's kind of a crackpot idea, I know. I've been wanting to write a 9-crossover fic for a long time now though. It'll be a nice break from all the Homestuck I've been abandoning. Anyway, there will be some parallels between the movie and this fic, mostly in terms of design and plot direction, but I aim for it to be fundamentally different. 
> 
> Soul starts as 'it', and picks up a name and gender as he collects more information about himself. Consider this first chapter a teaser, I guess.

\---

What wakes it is the sensation of falling. This is the first conscious experience it will know. 

Impact is painless, devoid of sensation entirely. Struggling to stand is purely instinctual, and once the entity has righted itself, it takes note of its form. 

Its appearance is reminiscent of a doll, made out of white cloth. Cotton, perhaps. It has two small metal feet, with four talon-like toes on each, three facing forward and one facing back. Like a bird. The metal rods stop around the shin, where its 'skin' begins. It lifts up one foot, observing how the appendage responds to its desire immediately. The thighs connect to a pear-shaped body, vertically bisected by a series of interlocking bits of metal- a zipper, its mind supplies. Two more appendages make themselves known, connected at the top of its torso, each tapering off to a metal cap. The cap has a small socket at the end, which supports a small polished-wood palm, ending in three metal fingers, and another attached to the side. Flexing its hand, it sees how each finger moves independently of one another. Using these digits, it explores what lies beyond its shoulders, what it cannot see- two cylindrical objects, that, when covered, obstruct its vision, an open pit, in which it feels nothing but tiny needles, and two small plates on either side. The head is otherwise perfectly smooth. 

Next, it takes in its surroundings. The surface upon which it had fallen is a wooden desk. Looking up, there dangle hooks and strange devices, a contraption in which it had rested for an untold amount of time before falling. Taking cautious, inexperienced steps towards the edge of the surface, noting the sound of metal scraping against wood as it walked, it looks down to see a creature of some sort, collapsed haphazardly on the ground. 

The creature's body vaguely resembles its own, in that it has two legs, flat feet, two arms, and a head, all connected to its torso. The creature is many times it's own size though, and infinitely more detailed. It is also draped in cloth, but the skin is not made of woven material, and is purple or brown in many areas. The head is topped with white wisps, swaying gently in the air. The thing in its entirety lies limp and relaxed, lifeless. 

A sudden slam catches the observer's attention. To its left, across the desk, a shuttered window fights against outside winds. Driven by curiosity, it goes to investigate. Step, step, clink- it looks down. By its foot lies a curious object, a small metal half-circle inscribed with mysterious symbols. It picks up the object, alluring in its strangeness, and holds it up to its eyes for closer inspection. The metal thing surrenders no secrets, and the beholder has other things to discover, but setting the thing back down seems wrong somehow. It wants to _have_ this thing. A small movement above its breast catches its eye- and supplies an idea. Using one talon-finger, it pulls down the zipper and stashes the thing inside itself, pulling the zipper back up to its breast. Perfect. 

Walking and stumbling across several large books, spanning twice its own height, it reaches the window. A small push is all that is necessary to open the shutters, which swing outward into nothing. Beyond the window is nothing but sky, a pale blue-gray blanket laid over the world. Looking out, it realizes that earth is below- an endless ashen expanse of collapsed buildings, skeletal houses, discarded machines, rusted and scorched pieces of a world now dead. And beyond, only flat and dry ground, with a few scattered ruins, extending forever. It stares into the unknown until its reverie is broken by voices. Scanning the area below its window, it discerns two small creatures walking together, picking up small objects, exchanging words, discarding most but keeping some to toss into a cart, which they pulled between them. They were built similarly to itself, one bigger and black, the other slender and tall, with black markings winding around its body. 

It wanted their attention, to be heard by them as they were heard by it, but no amount of willpower could force words from its throat. It would have to get their attention some other way. Looking below, it decided that jumping down would not be an option. The fear of injury is universal, as is the understanding of gravity. 

It turns, examining the room closely for the first time. A door on the other side of the room, beyond the corpse, leads to a hallway. Loose papers carpet the floor, swaying in the wind. It climbs down from the window sill, giving each sheet a cursory glance- they were covered in diagrams, notes, strange symbols- and itself. 

It inspects a sheet depicting its own image, from the front and back. The face unnerves it- seeing its own dead eyes, and mouth full of needle teeth- and at the top is a few words, underlined twice: they read "Soul Eater". 

It reasons that those words must be its name, and that "Soul Eater" is actually a pretty cool name to have, all things considered. 

Remembering its mission, Soul runs to the door. It's becoming more coordinated as it moves, learning as it lives. Soul ponders briefly the concept of life- for all intents and purposes, Soul decided that it could be considered alive. It has some bits of innate knowledge- perceiving language, the ability to read words and interpret its surroundings, a sense of self. There is a limited concept of gender in its mind, but so far it has not found any indication as to where it might fall in that category. Soul reasons that there are more important matters at hand. 

Soul dashes out the door, running along a hallway towards some kind of cliff. As it reaches the edge, it finds that there are actually a series of small cliffs leading down to ground level. Each little cliff is roughly Soul's own height, certainly not a fatal drop, though perhaps not a comfortable one. Soul was beginning to feel sensations within its body, what it could only explain as awareness, functionality. It knew that the next real fall it took would not be painless as the first had been. But these weren't fatal drops, Soul would just have to be careful. 

It swung its legs down, and dropped the rest of the way. The impact was jarring, but not painful, and it continues to repeat the process to ground level. It hits the ground running, chasing the now-faint voices, feet hitting concrete with muffled _clink clinks_. Soul sprints past dilapidated houses, rusting vehicles, mounds of corpses, turning the corner of a neglected dumpster- before pulling up short. Its quarry had vanished. Soul had been so close, where could they- WHAM. 

Soul flies through the air, landing several feet away, pinned underneath a crushing force. Soul attempts to scramble for freedom but the weight is too much for it. Lying face down, it can't even see its attacker. 

"YA-HOO! DID YOU SEE THAT, TSU?" A decidedly masculine voice screams by its ear. 

"Oh, Black Star! You're going to crush them, get off!" A feminine voice, further away, accompanied by quiet footfalls. The weight lifts, and Soul is allowed to struggle back to its feet. It's faced by the larger of the two, midnight black and noticeably larger than itself- built for strength and stealth. The other, slender and delicate, jogs tiredly up to join her partner. She was made of light grey cloth, winding black marks running along her body. They were like Soul in every other way, excepting the zipper on its chest and the teeth in its mouth. It was probably the teeth that made them each take an involuntary step backwards. 

The female, 'Tsu' breaks the silence first. 

"I don't think I've seen you before... Are you a friend?"

Soul tries to mimic the way she opens her mouth and makes sound come out, but the effort is in vain. It puts a hand to its throat, wondering what the problem is. 

"You can't speak? He can't speak, Tsubaki." Black Star addresses you but seems to be talking to Tsubaki. 

She makes a 'hm' sound, before saying "One second!" and scurrying over to their cart, partially hidden behind a fragment of sheet metal. Black Star eyes Soul warily, and Soul can do nothing but shift its feet nervously. A moment later Tsubaki returns, with a round object not unlike the one Soul carried, but covered in tiny mesh wires instead of carved symbols. She approaches Soul, gesturing to the zipper running diagonally down its chest. 

"May I?"

Soul hesitates, then nods. She unzips the top, revealing a small central port that it had not had time to wonder about earlier. She fits the object onto the port, and murmurs "Now try."

Soul opens its mouth.  
" _Kssshhhht!_ " Was the staticky reply. 

Tsubaki shifts something. "Again."

"Ksshhen?"

"Again."

"Friend?"

Soul's own voice surprises him. Unmistakably masculine. 

Tsubaki smiles. "Yes, I'm a friend. What is your name?"

"Soul... Eater." The name suddenly sounds kinda violent. He hopes they won't judge him by it. 

"Is that the name you were given, or did you choose it?"

"I think it was given-"

Black Star claps a hand on Soul's shoulder and spins him around so he's facing away from them. After a pause, he spins Soul back around. 

"Looks like a soul eater to me! I'm Black Star-" He turns around so Soul can see the white outline of a star on his back, "And I'm the biggest star you'll ever meet!" Black Star cackles, and bounds away to pull the cart from its hiding spot. Tsubaki looks apologetically at Soul. 

"Sorry, he can be a bit much sometimes. I'm Tsubaki, that was the first word in my mind when I Became. I guess it must be some kind of flower, because that's my symbol." She also turns, showing Soul the crest on her back. It's a flower with many petals, like a rose, but with softer curves. Almost like a cabbage. It's red faded to peach. 

"When you became what?" He asks. 

Tsubaki looked at him with an expression he couldn't identify. "When I woke up for the first time. That's how we get our names. Isn't that how you got yours?"

Soul is saved from having to answer by Black Star's return. Apparently they now have to meet with others, at what they called 'The Academy'. 

"There's a bunch of us living there," explaines Black Star, as they walk. "There's Spirit, the first one, who basically made himself leader. Stein, a creepy patchwork guy but he's crazy smart. He also kinda enforces Spirit's leadership, which is why we put up with him. Stein is _not_ to be fucked with, trust me."

Tsubaki cringes at Black Star's language, but doesn't say anything. Soul wonders what the dynamic between them is all about. 

"...Then we have the twins, Liz and Patty. Patty is kinda insane and Liz is alright I guess but I don't talk with 'em much. Next was Tsubaki here, then Kid- he was a natural leader but got exiled for trying to undermine Spirit, along with Maka, who was kinda bossy but she had her heart in the right place, you know? They're both pretty much dead, there's no way they could survive the waste. Anyway, Yours Truly is number 8, and that makes you 9! Your serial number is on the side of your central port, if you care about that. We can explain more when we're actually there." 

"About Stein," Tsubaki chimes in, "He's going to want to check you out when we get there, just to make sure you're in working order. He'll either help you reach your full potential, or..." She glances at Black Star. 

"Or he'll kill you." Black Star finishes simply. 

"Oh." Soul wasn't sure how else to react to that. 

"Anyway, we're close." Tsubaki finishes. 

The trio approaches a cathedral, worn and falling apart but perhaps more stable than most of the other remaining structures. They pass under the stone archway, where there were once doors, and Soul finds himself in a makeshift lift, which Black Star operates by pulling on a rope, part of a complicated pulley system. Several minutes later they are in the rafters, and Soul finally sees evidence of things living here. Led by Tsubaki and Black Star, Soul finds himself in the spacious church attic, facing an empty throne room of sorts. 

In the center of the room, leaned up against the wall, was the throne itself, but its mediocrity was completely eclipsed by the stained-glass window above it. The window was many times Soul's size, filtering colored light of every hue onto the floor before him. Transfixed by the sight, in a world so washed-out and gray, Soul almost gets left behind by his new friends. 

Adjacent to the throne room is a little nook between crossbeams, lit by a candle, illuminating a wall of papers, scribbled on and inscribed with images and symbols that Soul found familiar, but couldn't quite place. A quiet scuffle catches his attention, but neither Tsubaki nor Black Star show any sign of worry, and Soul watches as a tiny doll emerges from behind pots of calligraphy ink and piles of papers. When Tsubaki speaks, her voice is gentle. 

"Hey Patty, do you know where Liz is right now?"

The tiny doll- Patty- doesn't open her mouth to speak, but a feminine voice drifts from further back in the room. 

"I'm here."

A taller figure rises from her place, sitting cross-legged in the shadows. As she came into the light, Soul realized that she only possessed one eye. There was a neat seam running diagonally across the left half of her face. The aperture of her remaining eye was narrowed against the light, struggling to adjust, as though she spent most of her time in the dark. Her eye flicks between Tsubaki and Soul. 

There is a beat of silence before Tsubaki speaks again. 

"Do you know where Spirit or Stein is? We found another. Number 9. He calls himself Soul."

Liz nodded in his direction and gestures to herself, then Patty. "I'm Liz, this is Patty. She likes to draw."

Soul nods, not sure what else to say, but Liz turns her attention back to Tsubaki. 

"And I'm not sure where Spirit could have gone, but Stein should be in his workshop. It's almost sunset."

Tsubaki nods and thanks her, before leading them back to the lift.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why

"We'll leave you here. The rest is up to you."

Soul looks back at Tsubaki and Black Star. The three of them stand in front of a dilapidated structure that had once been a doghouse, or something similar, cloth now draped over the entrance to serve as a door. 

"Thank you." Soul says, as he leaves his companions behind and pushes aside the ratty curtain. He hears Black Star's parting words- "Good luck."- before he is swallowed by the gloom within. His lenses adjust to the darkness. He walks forward a few steps, and the entrance opens up into a larger space. 

The first object of interest is a table. It is littered with sewing tools, pins, bits of metal, batteries, matches, string, etc. Unnerving, but not- oh dear sweet lord. The wall behind the table is hung with scalpels, scissors, kitchen knives fashioned into weapons, weapons that were stained dark in areas- is that a scythe?- and, to Soul's horror, a doll hung on that wall, several inches above him. A doll that seems to be looking at him. 

A doll that says, "Welcome, stranger." In a monotone voice. "What brings you here?" 

The way Soul is being scrutinized makes him feel as though this person (are they people? A question for another time, another place) knew exactly what he was here for, so he figures he should just cut the bullshit. The doll’s face was gaunt, and his lenses seemed more reflective than regular glass. He wore a long lab coat, once-white-now-smudged-with-dirt, torn and repaired with neat black stitches in many places. His face and torso also bore stitched-up wounds and signs of damage. 

"Are you Stein?"

"Indeed I am," Stein steps forwards and Soul realizes that he had not been hanging from the wall as he had originally thought; this doll was just ridiculously tall. "And who are you?"

"Soul Eater. Tsubaki told me to come to you to be..." Soul hesitates, unsure. 

"Evaluated?" Stein suggests. He takes another slow step forward, shoulders hunched over a bit- probably a subconscious habit of slouching, to compensate for his height. 

"Yes. That." It sounded a lot better than 'investigated and possibly executed'. 

Stein reaches a long arm to the ceiling fixture above the table, illuminating the room with a quiet _flick_. The air seems to permeate some kind of dusty quality- everything was tinted slightly brown. He sweeps the clutter to one end of the table, and gestures for Soul to lie upon it. 

Soul eyes him skeptically. 

"I'm not sure what they told you," Stein begins, "but I assure you that I am not a violent being. I'm not here to hurt, only to heal." he says, before adding "well, not without reason. So, Soul Eater, why don't you lie down here, it will make the examination easier."

Soul obeys. Stein begins by asking Soul to open his mouth, to look at his teeth ("Good heavens, what are you supposed to do with these?"), and shines the light in his eyes, taps different spots on his head, etc. When Stein inspects his hands, he murmurs "Such detail, and care," before running his own roughly hewn hands up Soul's arm.

"What's this?" While the scientist seems to be speaking more or less to himself, Soul still cranes his neck to see. Running vertically up the back of his forearm is a metal slit. Soul shrugs with his free arm. 

"Let me see the other." Stein says. Soul lifts his other arm without complaint. Indeed, the other arm had a matching slit from his wrist to his elbow. Absentmindedly he flexes his arm and wrist, clenching his fingers into a fist, and, with a whir and a click, a blade pops out of the metal slit in his arm. 

Both stare in bemused silence for a good minute, before Stein says "I admit, I don't know what I was expecting, but it sure wasn't that."

Soul isn't sure why, but he laughs at that. Curiously, he tries the other arm- to the same result. 

"See if you can move them," Stein suggests. 

Soul finds that he can set each blade in any one of three positions- just peeking out of his arm (the tip of the blade faced towards his elbow, and swung out on a little hinge mechanism by his wrist), at about ninety degrees, and facing forward, effectively turning his arms into swords. Both sides of each blade was sharpened to a paper thin, razor-like edge. Stein nodded, looking confused but approving. 

"Well, Soul, I'd say you were made to be a weapon. Complete with a little pocket to hide things in. May I look inside?"

Soul nods his assent, and Stein unzips the cavity that is his chest. "Very sturdy," he comments, assessing Soul's inner workings, "and flexible- and what's this? I'm not sure I can handle any more surprises." Stein smiles, and Soul finds himself smiling back. 

"I don't know, I just picked it up-" Soul goes silent when he hears the other doll gasp. "What?"

Stein pulls out the thing, the Object that Soul had found in his first moments of sentience. It is an odd sensation, though Soul doesn't feel any pain with someone's hand in his chest, there was still a tickly sort of feeling. 

"I've seen this before,"

"What?"

"Patty is always drawing, always the same thing, a circle with strange symbols on it," Stein holds up the item in question, tapping a thoughtful index finger on it,"these symbols."

Soul isn't sure how to react to this discovery. Stein studies it for another moment before speaking again. 

"Soul, would you mind if I held on to this for a little bit? I promise I'll give it back, but I would like to see what it might do, if it does anything at all."

Soul considers for a second. While the object had no technical value to him, he is still oddly drawn to it. But it could be important, and Stein knows much more about Things than he does.

"Yeah, you can borrow it. I'd like it back though, it's... I feel connected to it, somehow." Soul cringes internally at how weird that sounded. Stein gives him a Look. He is silent for a moment, and when he speaks, it's with carefully chosen words. 

"We aren't natural creatures, Soul. We are creations of someone else." A pause. "Everything that is created, is created for a purpose. Maybe your purpose is tied with this thing? If you have a natural desire to protect it, and you are built for combat after all..." Stein lets the sentence trail away, and Soul thinks about that. 

"Who-?"

"I don't know."

Soul blinks at Stein's abruptness. The scientist softens. And then he begins to speak.

“When we woke in this world, it was chaos- madness. A terrible war between man and machine. In the beginning, we were all lost, confused. Looking for a leader. So when Spirit took charge, nobody challenged him. It was fine at first, yet it soon became obvious that he would sacrifice the life of an individual- ‘for the good of the group’, he’d say. He would have left Liz to die if I hadn’t saved her. Eventually, the machines developed some kind of toxic gas that killed… Everything. And by the time the last fire died out, it was clear that every side had lost. Man had no air to breathe, and machines had no source of power- they’re all gone now. All except us, and the Beast.”

Soul could only stare at the pensive doll before him. Stein had painted a bleak image of the age preceding them. 

"We have all wondered, perhaps me most of all, who our creator was. I was the second of us to live- and I use the word 'live' loosely- so I've had more time than the rest of them to wonder. Spirit doesn't think about things, doesn't challenge them. He just accepts, and moves on. But I've always found myself asking questions. What are we? Who put us here? Why? But I’m beginning to think that there are no answers. I certainly haven’t found any."

Stein shakes his head, as though waking up from a dream. He turns his attention back to Soul, who had sat upright on the table looking attentive and thoughtful during his whole speech. Stein appreciated his good audience behavior. Few listened to him at all, these days.

“What powers us?” Soul suddenly asked. “If machines died without their source of power, and man died without their oxygen, what is left for us to live on?”

Stein smiles sadly, as though recalling a memory both tragic and treasured. “Maka had the best theory for that, though we could never prove her hypothesis. She could see- or at least, believed she could see, a spark of life within each of us. To her credit, she could detect us even through walls, and over great distances.” He sighs. “It was her undoing, however; there was something- a ‘presence’, she called it- calling to her, it seemed. Kid believed it was what he had been looking for all along, some kind of Savior, and together they set off into the Emptiness.” Stein smiles reassuringly at Soul.

"Anyway, I think we're done here. I look forward to seeing you around later. You can-"

The room seems to split in two, a great rending sound, an explosion of screeching metal and splintering wood and shattering glass, a giant sword of light slicing Soul's world in half. The first thing to register in his mind is that some _thing_ has torn open the workshop, a thing with massive claws and one red eye, searching like a spotlight, red beam seeking out the helpless beings within. It wears a skull of some kind of cat- no, the skull is its _head_ , actually connected to its body- a patchwork mistake of bones and metal, a burlap hide and a variety of knives affixed to its 'paws'. With those knives, this horrific mockery of a cat grabbed at Soul, who was flung aside by Stein. Stein stood, tall and defiant, between Soul and the Cat-Beast, and was subsequently plucked up by its claws. The beast holds Stein up to the light, as though to examine him, and then turns its head back down, red spotlight landing upon Soul's mysterious Object. To Soul's inexplicable horror, the monster reaches with its other hand into the workshop, scrabbling for his prize. 

For an instant, Soul was wholly committed to recovering the Object before the Cat-Beast could obtain it. Then he is knocked aside, helpless to watch as his only possession and his only friend are stolen from him. Soul scrambles to his feet, running after the beast as it bounds across dry earth and industrial refuse, far outrunning Soul's small legs. It transfers Stein to hold in its mouth, and the Object is fastened securely on its chest plating- like it belonged. 

Soul yells incomprehensible words, trying to distract it, slow it down. But desperation alone wasn't enough, would never be enough, to hinder such a force, and Soul slows to an exhausted stop- only able to watch as the Cat-Beast recedes into the distant wasteland, towards the three lone pillars on the horizon. 

There's a dull ache in his chest, that silently demands that Soul follow the Beast, Stein, and his Object. The only thing that stops him from doing just that is the knowledge that he can't save Stein by himself- he needs help. Soul turns away from where the monster fled, and looks towards the cathedral. The only other beings he knew of, and, even if they had met just a scant few hours before, his only hope. With a rising feeling of dread, Soul jogs towards the building with leaden feet. 

Now he knew why they all resided above ground level- the beast couldn't reach them there. Soul soon finds Tsubaki. 

"The Beast took him? Oh Soul, he's gone now. I should go tell-"

"No, Tsubaki, he's still alive! The Beast took him alive! It was headed towards the towers!" Soul's despair was turning into frustration, bubbling over as precious minutes ticked away. Tsubaki looks at him sadly. 

"Soul... There's no way he will live very long. We can't catch up to it in time, and crossing the Waste is suicide. This can only end in failure, I'm sorry."

Soul growls in irritation, ready to protest, until Black Star appears. 

"Soul, let it go- she's right, it's a suicide mission and we can't afford to lose more of us. Besides, there are rules about the- hey!"

Black Star shouted after Soul as he ran, but did not follow. Why hadn’t anyone told him they were being hunted by some horrific robot-monster? Soul's spiny mouth was set in a grim line as he ran past the rooms where the other dolls resided. He doesn’t care about their rules. If they weren't going to help, he would have to do this by- _whoomph_. The impact sends both people flying, landing in a confused heap of entangled limbs. 

"Soul Eater?" He pushes an arm off his face to see Liz, blinking her eye in confusion. He had totally blindsided her as she came out of the candlelit study where he had first met her, not focused on what (or who) was in front of him. 

"Just Soul. Sorry. I need to get Stein!"

"Stein? Where is he? He should be in his-"

"No, the Beast came and took him! If we go now, maybe we can catch up to them-"

"Oh, Soul-"

That tone was starting to get to him- he doesn’t need pity, or ‘sorry’s, or gentle voices. He needs help. He was out of patience and Stein was out of time. 

"Wouldn't he have done the same for you?"

Immediately, Soul regrets his accusing words. The silence speaks for Liz- of course she would go after Stein, she owes her life to him. But she was afraid of leaving Patty, of being a burden, of dying out in the Waste like Maka and Kid- the two dolls he had never met- and never coming back, leaving her friends to wonder what had happened to her. 

Soul turns away. He can’t- he won’t- force her to risk her life for him. There is so much more at stake for her than there is for him. 

They need Stein. He has the Object, wherever he is, and Soul is certain that it has some significance to them. It’s important, Stein is important, Soul is… Not. But he can become important by saving the things that could save everyone else.

“Wait,” Liz blurts. Her hand, simple metal strips joined together, braced his shoulder. He stares at her, taken aback.

When she meets his eyes, the understanding in her gaze surprises him. 

“We’re going to need a map.”


End file.
